Written and dreamed by Taipan Kiryu
Author´s notes: After a while of being fascinated by the world of TF fanfiction, I decided to write a story about the best villain of the cartoon universe. My goal in this dark tale is to keep Megatron in character and to show some other fascinating sides of his obscure personality. If I succeed or not, you will tell. I want to thank KayDee Blu who beta read this chapter.
I don´t own TF, only in my dreams. This is fanfiction written for entertainment purposes only.
Beauty and violence don´t mix.
Sometimes though, they graze one another, circling the other but barely touching finger tips.
Temporal and perishable, millions of years of war are nearly impossible for an organic mind to comprehend. But when the logic belongs to sentient mechanoids, for whom time passes by in a very distinct way, things are very different.
With cumbersome thoughts of aging non existent, the fear toward death turns into something far more sinister. Dying no longer represents a peaceful end, but rather a violent spectacle of one's failed ambition at achieving everlasting glory. No one escapes such ghosts. The madness of it all - fighting a constant, merciless war where every battle may the last - become one with the killer instinct. And the only way to avoid it all is the hunger for survival.
Yes, violence and beauty don´t mix, but sometimes they exist together around a very thin line of peace, perishable and fragile.
And in that moment in time, that very line was inescapable.
In a distant room, very within the Decepticon Headquarters, a solitary silver Cybertronian was bowing over a repair berth, working on a huge cylindrical object, imposing and deadly.
That object was not the only prophet of destruction, though. The entire room was full of weapons. It was an arsenal, one of many inside the Nemesis ship, though this, in particular, was destined only to the High Commands of the most powerful army in the universe.
The only lightning barely illuminating the room was coming from outside the lonely circular window that was on one of the walls. Isolated, but big enough to provide a wide view of the symphony of marine life surrounding the Decepticon base. The outside lights were, as always, turned on, projecting their ghostly shines onto the cache of weapons that were orderly attached to the walls.
Megatron raised his head, listening. The rhythmic purring sound of the ship's generators stopped momentarily, just as they always did every night. Dimming his crimson optics, the Decepticon leader glanced out to the Atlantic Ocean.
Earth was a repulsive planet. And not only because of the filthiness of being an organic world. Earth possessed all the contradictions that disgusted him, the driving force behind his anger that led him into rising against his own kind.
But being on the ocean floor wasn't entirely displeasing. There was peace and logic. The night was eternal, just like on Cybertron. Only when alone, looking out to the darkness, could he fool himself into believing he was actually back home, even if that illusion only lasted for a few seconds. On the bottom of the terrestrial sea, there were no contradictions, corruptions or erratic behaviours. Life existed in perfect order.
Organic nature's message was clear.
Predators hunting their preys, the mighty subduing the weak, the hunted living only to feed its hunter…
That was life, the order that reigned in the universe to preserve it from chaos. It was a synonym of strength, not mercy.
He bowed his head and continued calibrating his fusion cannon. Deathly shines emanated from the destructive weapon as the Decepticon Commander grinned.
Beauty and violence could exist together.
After all, he, the ultimate predator, knew it.
The footsteps on the corridor were silent. Not one of them arrived within the audios of the Decepticon Supreme Commander. But the presence of the approaching mechanoid registered clearly throughout his sensors. He just knew.
Megatron lifted his newly calibrated fusion cannon at the darkness of the door´s threshold, not as a menace, but to test its aiming.
"Soundwave," he said in a low voice, knowing that his nocturnal visitor was already there.
The Decepticon Communications Officer emerged within the shadows, undaunted by the deadly weapon aimed in his direction.
Megatron lowered his cannon. The night glimpses of the ocean reflected on its polished surface.
Soundwave stepped forward and stood a few meters away from his leader.
"Contact established, Megatron," the monotonic voice informed.
The silver Transformer began to attach the fusion cannon to his arm. Soundwave remained silent.
Megatron continued attaching the painful connections that kept his weapon in direct contact with his logic circuits. He frowned, but not because of the pain.
His gesture had another origin. One didn't need to be telepathic in order to read the conflict of pride surfacing on the Decepticon leader then. Enough millenniums had passed for Soundwave to know when his leader had crossed certain limits. And whenever that point was reached, as the current situation was dictating, the expression held was one of acquired roughness to say the least.
"Did you let clear our conditions?" Megatron spoke again. The delicate brutal sounds of the fusion cannon wires penetrating his arm broke the stony silence.
"Affirmative. Humans are waiting for instructions."
Megatron finished attaching his weapon and looked at it proudly.
"What was the name again?" he asked.
"Monarchy," answered the telepath immediately.
"Monarchy, yes… Ironic, isn´t it Soundwave? Lifetime power acquired through genetic circumstances… yet another inconsistency on this little planet."
Soundwave didn't answer, but Megatron knew his lieutenant had all his attention focused on his words.
"And it´s precisely this monarchy which will give us a definitive advantage over the Autobots," the Decepticon Commander continued.
"Yes, Soundwave. Power must be conquered through might and consistence, not through absurd systems of heredity transmission… even less through common election."
Megatron walked over to the window. Aquatic peaceful reflections illuminated his evil grin.
"And these humans will learn with their blood the absurdity of their government methods," whispered Megatron caressing the surface of the window.
The silver Decepticon turned around and glanced at his lieutenant.
"Arrange a personal encounter for next cycle. It´s time to establish the rules."
"As you command, Megatron."
Megatron smirked. The grin stayed on his face long after Soundwave left to fulfill his orders.
To be continued.
Next chapter: Nightmares show their spines. Madness comes in fascinating shapes, and obsession has more than five faces.
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